Sue looked solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary
yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled
and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken
its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.